


April Fools' Cupid

by sunbitten



Category: Supernatural
Genre: April Fools' Day, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sam Winchester Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-31 22:32:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18323285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunbitten/pseuds/sunbitten
Summary: Sam and Dean are having a lovers' quarrel, and Gabriel, as their friend, just wants to help the two stubborn idiots get over it. He’s been around a while and has had his fair share of relationships, so he knows the best way to resolve couples' issues is to bang it out.Oh, but look at the calendar! It’s April 1st, April Fools' Day, a trickster’s favorite holiday. He can’t not celebrate. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.Oh, and what's this? Did someone just say Sam's afraid of clowns?





	April Fools' Cupid

**Author's Note:**

> There really isn’t a timeframe for this, but I think it would've fit in nicely after 13x20 “Unfinished Business" if the timeline had worked out.

They’re shouting and slamming doors, and it echoes loudly in the empty halls. It’s already past midnight, and if it weren’t for the fact that they’re in some super secret, remote, underground bunker, Gabriel would be afraid that they might wake the neighbors.

Gabriel’s unwrapping another candy bar when Cas slumps down in the chair in front of him, looking oh so tired for an angel who doesn’t need sleep.

“What’s the haps, bro?” He asks, biting off the top square of chocolate.

“Sam and Dean have been fighting for days.”

“Awww, is the marital bliss finally over for our favorite brotherfuckers?”

“Yes, at the moment, it would seem so.” Cas sighs, sitting up a little straighter. “We were hunting an unconventional pack of rawheads, and while Sam was strategizing, Dean snuck off and took care of it himself. When Sam found out, he became very angry, saying things like ‘last time we took on rawheads you nearly died’ and ‘you promised you wouldn’t be so reckless, that we’d be a team.’ And I don’t think Dean’s reply of ‘it was right there, it was a milk run’ made the situation any better.”

“So, it’s a riff of the usual ‘I love you so much and I was worried about you, or I’m disappointed in you, or whatever, so I’m mad at you problem.”

“I think so.”

“Just give it a couple days. They’ll make up and be filling the bunker with sex noises again before you know it,” Gabriel reassures with a shudder, remembering how on his first night here all he could hear was passionate screaming and bed post thumping.

“I wish it would happen sooner. It’s already been a few days. We stayed in town a little longer to make sure everything was taken care of, and they didn’t say a word to each other. And on the drive back, they didn’t talk. It was highly uncomfortable.”

“Doesn’t seem like they’re not talking with the way they were yelling at each other just now.”

“Well, you see, we stopped to get food at this restaurant just outside of town that has a clown theme. Since Sam’s afraid of clowns—”

“Wait, hold on a second,” Gabriel interrupts, mischievous smile growing as he leans in closer to Cas. “Sam, guy who’s about as tall as the sky, who voluntarily jumped into the cage to save the world, is afraid of entertainment for a children’s party?”

“Yes, but that’s not that important,” Cas clarifies, looking confused. “Sam said that Dean stopped there just to spite him and refused to go in, so Dean took me inside to eat while Sam waited in the car, then he may or may not have purposefully brought Sam the wrong order, and that’s when the yelling started.”

Gabriel, already gleefully scheming out different clown-filled scenarios for Sam, only half listens to the rest of Cas’ story, but he’s not gonna lie, he’s grown kind of fond of the brothers and he hates to see them squabble.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Cassie. I’m gonna help.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

“Well, my innocent little brother, big brother here has been in plenty of relationships, so I know a thing or two. I can say with the utmost confidence, when a couple fights, 7 out of 10 times it can be resolved with good old fashioned fucking.”

“I don’t think—”

“So, my plan is we hole them up somewhere and don’t let them out till they’ve banged out their problems.”

Cas still looks skeptical but eventually sighs, giving Gabriel all the permission he needs. But oh how naive Cas is because if he knew just what sort of plans Gabriel has swirling around in his brain, he’d never agree. But it’s really Cas’ fault anyway; if he had just looked at the date and saw that it just turned into the first day of April, he would’ve known not to take Gabriel up on his offer. Because don’t you know? You should never trust a trickster on April Fool’s.

* * *

Sam stomps down the hall, tablet in hand. He’s still miffed at Dean and has been avoiding him since they got back last night. If only he could avoid the infuriating thoughts of Dean running through his mind too. Unfortunately, he can’t and it’s making it really hard to focus on the words on his tablet.

He shakes his head, trying to get the latest flare up of Dean-annoyance out of his brain, and refocuses on his reading as he continues to make his way to the library. He walks, and he walks, and he walks, and he makes it halfway through the Men of Letters’ anecdote on the discovery of the magical properties of selkie skin when he stops and realizes that this hallway looks very familiar. Not in a I-live-in-this-bunker-and-walk-down-this-hallway-all-the-time familiar but a wait-I’ve-just-walked-down-this-hallway familiar.

Sam looks back over his shoulder, trying to remember if he took a wrong turn, but no, he hasn’t. Usually, all he has to do is follow the simple, single path, no forks or intersections or any kind of option to turn down the wrong hallway, to get from his room to the library, and he’s been doing nothing but following that path, so why is he still not there?

He cautiously walks to the end of the hallway and stands at the juncture between the two halls. “What the— ?” Sam mutters, confused to find the new hall to be the exact same as the hall he was just in, the numbers on the doors matching the ones he just passed.

He rushes to open one door, then the other, and then the other, and finds them all locked. Panic starts to grow, and he practically runs down the hall, turning only to find the same hallway, the same doors, all locked. He repeats this three more times with three more identical hallways and an ever-increasing heartbeat until he turns and finally finds himself someplace new.

It’s another hallway, but this time, there’s nowhere to turn at the end. All the doors are gone except for one, but this one’s different. It’s taken up its place at the end of the hall, opposite of Sam and staring him down as the only way for Sam to go.

Sam approaches wearily, only letting out a sigh of relief when he sees the number and realizes it’s the door to Dean’s room. He reaches for the knob and is mildly surprised to see that it’s unlocked. Even though he’d been trying to avoid Dean earlier, he can’t help but hope that Dean is currently in there so that he can help Sam figure out what in the hell is going on with the bunker. He slips into the room, closes the door behind him, and steels himself for any residual anger Dean may have from their fight yesterday.

But what greets him is far worse than any anger Dean could ever produce. Sam’s blood runs cold as he takes in the figure lying on the bed. His eyes travel up the comically wide and long yellow shoes, up the red and white polka-dotted jumpsuit, over the pale face with a blood red mouth, grotesquely bulging nose, and eyes covered in a color reminiscent of a nasty bruise, and up to hair curly and green and looking like snakes crawling out of its scalp.

Right there, in his brother’s bed, is a clown sleeping.

Sam draws his gun. He’s not sure what’s going on, but he’s damn certain it’s all because of the clown. And though he wishes he could just shoot it dead and revert the bunker back without talking to the abomination, he knows that killing it will not in any way guarantee everything will be put back to normal. He needs to question it, so Sam gathers up every ounce courage he has and shouts, “Hey!” His voice only falters a little.

The clown slowly blinks awake, bleary eyes looking at Sam, before he quickly sits up against the headboard, hands up in surrender.

“Woah, I know your mad at me, but you don’t have to shoot me.”

That voice, Sam knows that voice. “Dean?”

“Yeah, who else?” Dean asks like Sam’s gone crazy.

Sam lowers his gun and aimlessly gestures at the mirror he knows to be behind him. He flinches out of the way as Dean brushes by him to get to the mirror.

“Holy fuck! What the hell?” Sam turns in time to catch Dean’s eyes in the mirror. He tries not to shy away from clown’s gaze. “No wonder you looked like you saw a ghost.”

Dean turns on the sink and scrubs away at the makeup, and Sam feels relief knowing that the scariest part of the clown is about to be gone. Dean shuts off the tap and quickly pats his face with a towel before turning back to face Sam. “There, all gone.”

Sam stands stock-still, staring at Dean’s face. Though a little wet, the makeup is still there, undisturbed in the least. Not even a trace of the red lips smudged beyond its thick black border.

Dean must see how wide his eyes have gotten because he furrows his brow before whipping back around to look in the mirror. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!” He brings a hand up to forcefully drag across his face. “What the hell? It’s not coming off.”

“Sam, what’s going on?” Dean turns back towards Sam, and Sam staggers back a bit, not liking a clown focusing so intently on him. Sam opens his mouth, not really sure what will come out. Luckily, a booming voice from the ceiling interrupts him.

“Hello, Winchester brothers! How’re you liking it? I’m sure you’ve noticed Dean’s makeover by now. Makeup by Gabriel, the best long lasting makeup not on the market. Won’t come of unless you magic it away.”

“Oh, I should’ve known. Gabriel!” Dean growls at the ceiling. “Stop it!”

“Oh, I will. After you two have fucked.”

“What?! And why as a clown?” Dean questions the ceiling indignantly. And Sam concurs, just not as loud, he’s still a little shocked by the clown.

“You heard me. I’ll let you out of the room and put Dean back into flannel once you two do the horizontal mambo. And clown because I thought it’d be funny, especially for our little Sammy.”

Dean tries the door at Gabriel’s words, pulling off with a huff when he confirms it won’t budge. “What? Got bored of Casa Erotica and now into weird-ass fetish porn with clowns.” Dean sits on the bed resigned. He puts on his strategizing face, probably trying to come up with a way to get them out.

But Sam knows how, knows the quickest way out of the room with a clown. It’s the same trick they always use when dealing with a trickster: just play along.

“Dean,” Sam calls quietly, “we should do it.”

Dean looks over at him worryingly. “And how do you plan on doing that, Sam? You’re so scared of me right now you’ve back yourself into a corner.”

Sam looks down around him. He hadn’t even realized he moved this far back.

Dean’s staring at him and then his face lights up like he’s had a wonderful idea—the happy clown face scares Sam even more, traces of Dean hard to see under all that brightness and makeup. “Ok, we’ll just have a quickie and it’ll be over. Doggy style so you don’t even have to look at me. It’ll be like any other time we do it”

Gabriel sharply sucks in air through his teeth. “Ooh, no can do boys. You see, I’m trying to get you two to stop fighting, so here’s a list of sex acts you two need to do to get out of this”

A list appears out of thin air on the bed, Dean picks it up and reads quietly, “Sam gives head to Dean, Dean eats out the sweet ol’ Sammy pie, Dean fucks Sam(missionary).” Dean crumples up the list and tosses it in the direction of the wastebasket, where it ultimately ends up at Sam’s feet. “This is dumb.”

Sam picks up the list and smooths it out. He studies it, not really taking in the words but trying to calm down his nerves, before taking a seat next to Dean; he tries not to sit too far away despite every instinct telling him to get as far away as possible. He lies down, trying to get in a somewhat seductive position and watches as clown eyes follow his movements. “Come on, let’s get this over with, Dean.”

Dean crawls up to his side, slightly hovering over him. He reaches a white gloved hand out to rest over the buttons of Sam’s shirt, but he doesn’t move to unbutton them. “We don’t have to do this, Sammy. We don’t have to supply him with free porn.”

Sam shakes his head. His heart is beating so fast, and he’s sure Dean can feel it with the hand on his chest. “It’s ok. I want to get out of here. Fast.”

Dean nods, understanding, and he brings up another gloved hand to start on the buttons, but before Dean can even get one undone, Gabriel interrupts. “Alright, now that we have everyone’s consent...” The sound of a snap echoes in the room, and suddenly, Sam is very, very naked.

Surprised at the sudden change, Dean startles back and after pulling at a glove that refuses to come off, demands, “Yo, what about me? I can’t exactly have sex in this clown suit.”

“Mmm, yes, you can.” Gabriel answers back glibly. “Check below.”

Dean’s hands come up to frame his crotch and finds a slit in the fabric right over where his dick should be. He parts it, and his dick falls forwards. And though Dean could never be considered small, it’s hard to see as it gets lost in the masses of excessive fabric of his current outfit.

Sam had tried to look away, not really able to keep staring at a clown without freaking out, but every time his eyes would automatically track back to Dean. So he tries to close his eyes instead, but for some reason, his eyes would suddenly bounce back open. It’s like he’s lost control over them. He tries to get Dean’s attention to tell him something’s wrong.

“Ah, I see you’ve figured it out, Sam,” Gabriel interrupts. “You’re gonna get the full clown experience, no missing out by looking away or closing your eyes. You sure are gonna get an eyeful.”

His breathing starts to quicken, and Sam’s sure he’s about a minute away from a full-blown panic attack. He had planned on just keeping his eyes closed the entire time, just listening to Dean’s voice and picturing him as he’s been the several thousand times they’ve done this before. But now, he’s stuck staring at a clown, knowing that it’s there with its red, round nose of evil.  

“Hey, Sammy, relax.” Dean’s voice cuts through the panic. A hand gently cups the back of Sam’s neck and angles his head until their eyes meet. “Look at my eyes. It’s just me. You know me, Sam.”

Green eyes stare down at Sam, the same eyes that’s been watching over him, caring for him, loving him, all his life. The panic melts aways along with the clown periphery as he focuses on Dean’s eyes and a sense safety envelopes him. No malice or cruelty that Sam’s come to associate with clowns could ever be held in those eyes and aimed at him.  

“Come on, the sooner we start, the quicker we can get out of here.” Without ever breaking eye contact, Dean guides him into a position where he can comfortably reach his dick. “Whatever you do, just look at my eyes, ok?”

Sam nods and moves to put Dean’s cock in his mouth. Dean hisses, and the semi that he had been sporting begins to fill out in Sam’s mouth. Sam sucks and licks and does all the little tricks he knows Dean likes. And even though they’ve done this countless times, this is intense. The constant eye contact, the way he can watch every emotion from love to lust pass through Dean’s dark, hooded eyes, and the way Dean is just staring back into his soul is so intimate and different from how they usually do this. Sam can feel the warmth spreading high on his cheeks, and, a little embarrassed, he wants to look away, but he can’t; Dean had told him to keep his eyes on his, and Sam’s not willing to break this magic.

The tip of Dean’s dick hits the back of Sam’s throat, and Sam swallows around the head. Dean shows his appreciation with a low moan. “Doing so good, Sam. Feels awesome.” Sam takes the praise and doubles his efforts, bobbing up and down and suckling at the head when his jaw starts to tire. He’s licking over the slit when Dean’s hands finally migrate from his shoulder to his hair, trying to pull him back. Through gritted teeth, Dean warns, “Sam, honey, stop. ‘Bout to come.”  

Sitting up, Sam let’s go of Dean’s cock, and Dean’s hand slips from his hair and comes forward to cup his jaw, his gloved thumb wiping at the spittle on his lips. Dean softly traces the shape of his swollen lips a few more times before asking lightheartedly, trying to keep Sam in a relaxed mood, “Ready for me to rim you, baby? I know you love when I do that.”

Sam nods and lies back against the bed, spreading for Dean to get in between. Dean dives down, hitching Sam’s thighs over his shoulders, and, wasting no time, licks a long line from the cleft of his ass all the way up to his balls.

Sam jolts at the sensation, neck arching and head thrown back against the pillow. But because of Gabriel’s rules, his head automatically bounces back again until Dean is in sight. Or better put, the clown is in sight.

Sam tries to relax and enjoy the kitten licks his brother is giving his hole.But everytime he manages to relax just a little, the cumbersome clown nose gets in the way as it pokes awkwardly at his perineum. Usually, Dean rimming him has him blindingly hard and turns him into mush at the first lick, but he’s way too tense now. Looking up at Dean’s eyes and getting lost in the depths of them had helped earlier, but now all he can see with Dean hunched down is green curly hair and the hulking mass of a polka-dotted covered body looming over him. His dick’s still lying limp under the nest of hairs on his crotch, hiding away from the big scary clown.

“Dean, Dean, stop, stop,” Sam pleads, trying to scooch away from the clown. But, at the same time, his hands frantically reach towards Dean, either seeking big brother comfort or to push the evil clown away; he doesn’t know.

Dean quickly sits up in alarm, eyes wild in that way he gets when he’s worried about him. “Sammy, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No, no, I just—” Sam feels a hot flush of embarrassment spread through his body. He quickly searches out Dean’s eyes and meekly explains, “Couldn’t see you, couldn’t see your eyes. I only saw the clown...got scared.”

The overly lined eyes soften, and they’re staring at Sam way too soothingly and tenderly to be anyone besides Dean. The world instantly melts away to nothing but Dean again, and Sam relaxes a bit.

Dean reaches out towards Sam. “Just hold my hand.”

Sam intertwines their fingers and Dean dips down again. He comfortingly squeezes Sam’s hand before placing a gentle kiss to his hole. He tries not to make any sudden movements that’ll freak Sam out and leisurely lets his tongue circle around the rim, coaxing and massaging the tight ring of muscle open.

Dean’s thumb strokes over the back of Sam’s hand in the same easy rhythm of his tongue. Sam focuses on the feel of it, trying to lull his mind to unseeingly stare at the clown and get his body to loosen up. And Dean, being the sex God he is, knows just how to help.

Knowing just what to do to get Sam to come is like Dean’s special talent, and he proves it when he’s got his tongue nudging it’s way deeper and he’s got three finger stuffed into Sam’s hole just a few minutes later.

The pleasure’s skyrocketed in Sam’s body, his cock now hard and leaking, and he’s panting and pulling on Dean’s hand. “Now. Fuck me. I’m ready.”

Dean pulls away, looking very confused. But Dean’s expression is the least of Sam’s worries as he’s a little preoccupied himself with the fact that he can start seeing Dean’s face through the clown makeup.

“Now the makeup transfers?” Dean asks no one in particular.

Despite it being a rhetorical question, he gets an answer from a temporarily forgotten archangel. “Yeah, so now you’ll be fucking an ass but it’ll look like you’re getting blown by a clown. Clowncest. I thought it was funny.” A bark of laughter echoes from above. “And it is!”

Dean rolls his eyes before wrapping his hands around Sam’s legs and hiking them up on his shoulders.

“Remember, eyes on me.”

Sam nods, staring into green eyes, and then he can feel Dean lining up his dick against his puckering flesh. His hole clenches, wetly kissing the head of Dean’s cock. Dean shoves his way in gently, and Sam mewls at the stretch and burn he’s come to associate with sex with Dean.

Dean’s looking down at Sam’s ass, watching as he feeds his cock into Sam, as the smudged clown face on Sam’s ass swallows him. “Fuck, this is weird.” But that doesn’t stop him from snapping his hips forward, growling with pleasure, as Sam’s insides twitch around him.

They start to move against each other, pushing and pulling in this dance that they’ve perfected from years and years of practice. It’s sensuous with the way Dean lasciviously rolls his hips, it’s rough with the way Sam’s being bent in half and used roughly like a fuck toy, and it’s tender with the way Dean dips down between Sam’s knees and presses sweet kisses to his mouth.

Dean pulls away, lingering just slightly to suck on Sam’s bottom lip. When Dean’s finally far enough away that Sam can focus on his face, he can see that more of the makeup has wiped off and a radiant smile is peeking through from underneath. Sam’s about to give him a smile back, Dean’s hunching over laughing uncontrollably.

“What?” Sam asks mildly offended.

“Nothing,” Dean soothes, giving a quick kiss to the underside of Sam’s jaw. “Just the makeup is starting to transfer. You're a clown now too.” Dean huffs out a few more laughs as his hips start to thrust again. “I can see why you’re scared, fucking a clown is just too weird.” He half shrugs. “It is kinda funny.”

“Shut up.” Sam growls. “Just hurry up and finish me off.”

Dean gives in and snakes a hand around Sam’s weeping erection and twists his hips, angling for that magical spot that has Sam exploding in one, two, three, four more thrusts.

Sam’s all loose-limb jelly when he finally comes down from his orgasm, but he drags Dean down for a kiss, sucking his tongue until Dean’s groaning through his release against Sam’s mouth. He lets Dean kiss him as he shakes from the aftershocks and then some. He doesn’t really know when Dean stops as he passes out, falling asleep to Dean’s kisses.

When Sam comes back around, he’s clean and wrapped up warmly in a blanket that smells so much like Dean. Though unwilling to leave his cocoon, Sam’s about to get up and search for Dean, but just as he lifts an arm out to unravel himself Dean comes back through the door, dressed in boxers and carrying a glass of water.

“Everything good?” Sam asks as he takes a sip of the water Dean offers him.

“Yup. Gabriel put everything back to normal.”

“That’s too bad, Gabriel really improved your looks.”

Dean pulls an annoyed expression. “Ok, if you really think that, I’ll go ask him to redo his little makeover.”

Sam’s heartbeat picks up a little at the threat of the clown returning. “Sorry,” he apologizes meekly.

“That’s what I thought.” Dean nods before pulling off his boxers. “Now, come on, let’s snuggle.”

Sam lifts the blanket and Dean pulls him into his arms, making him feel safe and secure and not the least bit worried about some clown.

* * *

“See, what did I say? They’re all made up and everything now,” Gabriel says, turning towards Cas.

“This solved nothing; if anything, this was just a temporary band-aid on a deeper issue.” Cas stares at him indignantly, getting that constipated look on his face anytime anyone threatens his favorite humans. “You just did that to mess with them, didn’t you?”

Gabriel shrugs. “I’m not a marriage counselor. Now, come on, let’s go get something to drink and give the lovebirds some time together.


End file.
